The chamber vibrated. A deep, resonant voice—like a landslide apologizing—rumbled through her bones.

Elara sighed. This was the problem with sentient hardware. She climbed into a service elevator and rode up the spine of the colossal engine, past turbine blades the size of cathedrals, until she reached the core chamber. It glowed with a soft, amber light.

“It says, and I quote,” PING replied, “‘The sky is just a higher floor. I am tired of carrying everyone else’s dreams. What about my dream?’”